


The Waiting Game

by coolbyrne



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: The Rorschach hanging in Gibbs' house gets some attention from the poker crew. Slibbs
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 21
Kudos: 132





	The Waiting Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to 'Symmetry', and is actually part 3, if you count 'Perception' as part 1. Should probably read 'Symmetry' in the very least, or this won't make a lot of sense. (Did you know, in my research into all things Rorschach, the print she has/had in her office isn't one of his 10 prints? So I'm not sure if CBS couldn't get permission to use a Rorschach print or if it's one of his earlier ones he decided not to use in his studies.)

The coffee was hot, the sugar was plentiful (he had kept her in stock despite his judgy arched eyebrow everytime she put it in her drink), and the company was quietly poring over the sports page, glasses perched on his nose, his own coffee curled in his hand. While she waited for the sugar to hit her system, she glanced up at the Rorschach hanging in the alcove across the table and marvelled at its presence. 

"Is it crooked?"

His voice pulled her attention away. "No. I'm just… surprised it's still there." She knew it sounded silly as soon as she heard her words, but there was no other way to admit her pleasant disbelief in how far they'd come in such a short time. 

"You want me to move it?"

"No. I like it there." 

And she knew he did, too, because she'd catch him looking at it every once in awhile, particularly when the case was a hard one. The first time she'd noticed it, he deflected the significance by saying it went with his coffee and paper in the morning, because he knew she didn't need to hear him say he liked keeping something of her close. The way he held her in bed, tight and always touching, told her as much.

"Good," was all he said before going back to his paper.

"Poker night's tomorrow."

"Yep. First Saturday of the month." When she didn't reply, he looked up again. He wasn't a stupid man. "What's on your mind, Jack?"

She knew her shrug wouldn't suffice, so she said, "It's a statement." Her eyes went to the painting.

"Yep," he agreed. "It's a butterfly."

His dry delivery made her laugh and she lightly slapped his shoulder. 

"You know what I mean."

He tossed his glasses on the table and rubbed his eyes. Leaning back in his chair, he tilted his head in the Rorschach's direction. He knew just as much as she did that it wouldn’t take long for their friends to put two and two together. "Who's gonna be the first to say something?"

She pondered the question over the steam from her coffee. "Guess it depends who comes in first. Leon will just raise an eyebrow." She mimicked the expression so well, Gibbs chuckled. "Grace will give me a look. Then you a look. Then an obvious 'Ohhhh'." The impression got another laugh from him. “And then she’ll want time and dates.”

"Sounds about right. And Fornell?"

Jack narrowed her eyes at the possibilities. “Depends on how he’s doing at the table. If he’s winning, he’ll be doing that little dance to the kitchen under the pretense of getting more drinks, but really, just to rub it in our faces. Which then gives him ample opportunity to notice it.” Gibbs grunted in agreement at her prediction. “But if he’s losing, he’ll keep his head down and grumble into the cards all night.”

Though there was mirth in her voice, there must have been something more because his softened. “I can take it down. For the night. If you want.”

She pieced together what he was saying and why he was saying it. She reached out to trace his wrist with her fingertip. “No, it’s fine. Really.” A smile punctuated her assurance. “It’s just… we’re just so new, you know? Not sure I’m ready for the third degree we’ll be getting.”

“We get anything past the first degree and they’re out the door.”

Her smile grew into a laugh. “Anyway, I should go. The team’s too good to not notice I wore these clothes yesterday.” 

As she got up to collect her cup, he casually said, “Could always start leavin’ some stuff here.” 

She looked down at him in amazement; he still had his head in the sports page, throwing out his suggestion like he was telling her the weather forecast. Though they had only taken the step towards something serious three weeks ago, she was glad to discover she wasn’t the only one who felt like it was long overdue. She’d spent more than one night with him over the last 23 days, (was gloriously woken up _by_ him most of the time) yet it was the odd dichotomy of the newness of it all while feeling like they had been doing it forever that kept taking her by surprise. 

“Somethin’ to work in, anyway,” he continued. “You’ve already confiscated my clothes to sleep in.”

She was having none of his sass without handing him back some of her own. “You don’t let me stay in them long enough to sleep.” She kissed the tips of his ears and felt the red heat under her smile. “I’ll see you at work.”

She hadn’t even turned when he reached out for her hand and pulled her mouth to his. Satisfied that it was a proper goodbye, he let her go and answered with a simple, “Yep,” before returning to the football scores.

…..

They usually started filtering in around 7, and the first courtesy knock came at 6:54.

Grace sauntered into the living room and dropped her purse onto the chair. “I need a drink,” she said by way of greeting.

“Let me grab you something,” Jack said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Grace looked down at Gibbs who had his nose in a file. “Hello to you, too, Popeye.”

“Grace.”

“You know, your therapist would tell you that a healthy person finds a separation from work and play, especially before a game that requires focus and attention.”

“I’d tell my therapist she might want me distracted since she’s on a 3 game losing streak.”

She rolled her eyes but conceded the point. Leaving him to his own devices, Grace walked into the small dining area where the table was already set up for the night. Jack came around the corner with a heavy glass filled with amber liquid. 

“Gimme,” Grace said.

Smiling, Jack handed it over, then asked, “And what would my therapist say?”

Grace took a moment to appreciate the drink’s bite, her eyes closed and a soft hum escaping her lips. Satisfied, she said, “First, your therapist would say she was sorry about not being around after you came back from California.” Jack tried to wave it away, but Grace was adamant in her apology. “I got called out of state to help the Bureau with a case.”

“Really,” Jack assured, “it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Grace gave her a once-over and nodded. “You actually _do_ look fine. I’m glad.”

“The last few weeks have been really good.”

Something in her tone must’ve caught Grace’s attention, because she turned around, first left, then right, as if she was looking for a clue. Her eyes gave it away when she found it. With a smirk, she looked at Gibbs, then looked at Jack, then said, “Ohhhh.”

“Wednesday the 9th,” Gibbs informed her from the couch, his attention still on the file. “About 10:14pm.”

At first, though he was correct about the date, Jack thought he was just being facetious about the time, until she recalled what they were doing around 10pm. Images of his mouth between her legs and her hands in his hair-

“Ohhhh,” Grace said again, though without any of the private embarrassment that was threatening to make Jack spontaneously combust. It was clear Gibbs was fully aware of his words and her reaction, because he stole a quick smirk in her direction. Oblivious to the exchange, Grace asked, “Anyone else know?” Still unable to trust her voice, Jack simply shook her head. “Good. I can’t wait to tell Leon. He owes me a hundred bucks.”

A warning rumble came from the couch. “Grace.”

Jack intervened with a smile. “You can collect from Leon. But can we keep it quiet from Tobias? We’re running a little experiment.”

Grace slowly nodded. “A little game of perception, huh? I got it. How long do you think it’ll be before he says something?”

“That’s what we’re wanting to find out.”

Grace considered the options, then said, "It'll depend on how his night is going."

Jack nodded. "We thought the same."

A short rap on the door cut their speculation short, and they turned their attention to their visitor. Jack greeted him with a hug.

"Leon," she said, giving him an extra squeeze.

Grace simply stood with her hand out. Jack came around Leon to help him remove his coat, and his speed slowed down to half as his brain took a moment to decipher what his eyes were seeing. His gaze went not to Grace but to Gibbs, then to Jack who had come back around front again. Then back to Gibbs.

“I don’t want to know until I need to know,” was all Leon said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet.

“Paperwork’ll be on your desk Monday.”

Jack was glad Gibbs’ comment drew the attention of both their friends, because if she felt like she was going to burst into flames at his earlier comment to Grace, Jack felt impossibly warm now, but for a different reason. When Leon said he didn’t need to know, he was giving them a buffer, some time to get settled and be sure. Gibbs’ promise to have the necessary paperwork required by HR in by Monday- in 2 days time - told her it was all the time he needed. She knew he could see the effect his words had on her by his clear blue eyes that looked right at her. They weren’t teasing now, and somehow, that made her warmer. Had it not been for Grace and Leon, she would’ve ravaged him right on that chair. She pinned the thought for later.

Seemingly oblivious to the heated charge between them (or in the very least, ignoring it), Leon pulled out his wallet and handed a wad of bills to Grace and asked, "Fornell?"

Jack put her arm around his shoulder. "About that-"

…..

If the four of them were waiting for Tobias to take notice, they were going to wait a long time. Having a bad run of 5 hands, Fornell had his head bowed, eyes burning into every hand that let him down. The Rorscach sat patiently across the room, waiting to be noticed. Gibbs' demeanour gave nothing away, such was his ability to maintain a poker face, while the other 3 were all in various states of anticipation, none more so than Grace, who found an opening when Jack won a big pot.

"Looks like someone's getting lucky tonight."

Gibbs must've picked up on Jack's dismay at not being able to reach Grace with a kick, because Grace jumped and exclaimed as something closer connected with her shin. Jack sweetly looked at Gibbs and mouthed a 'thank you'.

"Wasn't exactly the reaction I was looking for," Grace muttered, rubbing her leg. 

Tobias sat back and rubbed his hands first over his bald spot then down across his face. As his hands lowered, he looked across the room. “Is that an inkblot?”

Jack couldn’t help but quip, “What does it look like to you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I know what you want me to say, but we used to use those when I was with the Bureau. Completely useless. No offense to my doctor friends.” He waved a hand around the table. 

Grace leaned forward. “Some doctors might say your reluctance in answering the question indicates a psychological deficiency worth investigating.”

Rolling his eyes, he acquiesced to the prodding. “There’s enough going on there that I think we need to look beyond the surface. The way the ink is spread out like that, but has a definite coming together in the middle? I think that says something about relationships and how we treat each other.”

“It’s a moth!”

“It’s a butterfly!”

“It’s a ladybug.”

Gibbs just shook his head at the trio’s responses. Looking at Fornell, he said, “You readin’ Cosmo again?”

“I make no apologies. Helps me get in touch with my feelings.”

“Get in touch with your banker,” Gibbs said, “‘cause you’re gonna owe someone a hell of a lot of money by the end of the night.”

…..

He wasn’t wrong, and after another 6 losing hands, Fornell was ready to call it a night. Downing his last bit of coffee, he stood and grumbled his good-byes. Jack followed him to the door with the rest of the poker crew not far behind. 

“At least I can count on you to be nice,” he told her, kissing her cheek.

She shrugged in her easy-going way. “Easy to do when I’ve taken all your money, Tobias.”

He grunted and slipped on his coat. It was when his hand went around the door handle that he turned with narrowed eyes and a wagging finger. “You two are sleeping together, aren’t you?”

“Hallelujah!”

“At last!”

Jack didn’t know whether the exclamations from Grace and Leon were directed towards Tobias’ long awaited revelation or as an answer to his question, and she was saved her blushes from the latter when Gibbs piped up.

“They don’t call it the Federal Bureau of Incompetence for nothing.”

“Hey!” Fornell objected. “I don’t work there anymore.”

“Over-qualified, Tobias?”

Jack made sure she was between the two men, though she had no doubt it was part of the feigned annoyance their friendship was based on. “Don’t let him get to you. We’ll see you same time next month, right?”

“Next month? Hell, you’re going to see me tomorrow morning and explain to me what this guy does to keep getting beautiful women to sleep with him.”

Jack quickly held up her hand. “If anyone says anything even remotely suggestive, I will shoot them.” Three mouths closed shut, disappointed at the missed opportunity. “Thank you.”

Fornell could only shake his head. “Anyone need a lift while I try to figure out what the hell I’m doing wrong in my life?”

“I’ll go with you,” Grace said. “That whiskey went down too easy tonight and you owe me a hundred bucks.”

Leon turned down the offer. “I’m good,” he said, pushing his feet into his shoes and slipping his jacket over his shoulders. 

“Then let’s go,” Fornell said to Grace. “Take it easy, Jack.” His goodbye to Gibbs was a disbelieving double-take. 

When the duo left, Jack turned to Leon with a broad grin and an adjustment of his lapels. “‘Night, Leon.”

He looked at her one last time, as if trying to decipher every emotion that she held back behind twinkling brown eyes. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he turned to Gibbs.

“Monday,” Gibbs said without hesitation.

Leon nodded. “Monday.” He held up his keys. “‘Night.”

Jack leaned against the door, closed her eyes and sighed, the exhale full of contentment. “At least that’s out of the way.” Taking in another deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked right at Gibbs. “Monday, huh?”

He pulled his way towards her by her front pockets. “That okay?”

She nuzzled against his late night stubble and thought about what it meant to make ‘them’ so official. “More than.” Her fingers trailed up his arm from his wrist to his shoulders where they took up a familiar residence at the nape of his neck. She swayed her hips into his, enjoying the simple closeness. 

“Looks like you’re not the only one gettin’ lucky tonight.”

Her head pulled back and she feigned a dismay. “You’re really going with that?”

Unphased, he shrugged. “Read it in Cosmo. ‘50 best pickup lines’.”

The idea of him reading Cosmo made a smile bloom across her face. “I can’t wait for you to try the other 49.”

…..

-end


End file.
